


Remember when you were a Madman?

by cinnamon_roll123



Category: Batman (Comics), Batman (Movies - Nolan), Batman - All Media Types, Batman Begins (2005), Dark Knight (2008)
Genre: Abusive Relationships, Altered Mental States, Drug Use, Dubious Consent, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, Explicit Language, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Gun Violence, Implied/Referenced Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Mental Disintegration, Mental Health Issues, Non-Consensual Violence, Originally Posted on FanFiction.Net, Past Lives, Psychological Torture, Psychopaths In Love, Schizophrenia, Self-Harm, Sexual Violence, Suicide, Threats of Violence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-05-17
Updated: 2016-09-02
Packaged: 2018-06-09 00:48:01
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 4
Words: 6,619
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6882583
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cinnamon_roll123/pseuds/cinnamon_roll123
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In his past, before The Joker was really The Joker, he met a rival who was as intriguing as she was deadly. As they both wrestle with their sanities, no one knows who will crack first, or who will survive. </p><p>Earlier life of Joker/Jack and life of OC.  </p><p>Set pre-Batman Begins but includes references to first 2 movies.<br/>Comments welcome!</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Bank Meeting

Chapter 1- The Bank Meeting

BANG! 

Terrified screams.

Three men ran into the bank, wielding guns. The people hid under their desks and behind counters. 

"Nobody fucking move!" Yelled one of the men, as the shorter man grabbed wads of cash from behind the counters. 

A man walked in, a shotgun hanging casually from one hand, whistling "Singing in the Rain" loudly and crudely. The masked gunmen acknowledged him.

"Now!" He said, pushing his green dyed hair back with one gloved hand. "Who's gonna tell me the code to the vault? Hmm?" 

Silence, apart from a woman sobbing in terror behind her desk.

"Will it be you?" He suddenly pointed his shotgun at a man. The man trembled. "No..."

The Joker walked on through the desks.

"How 'bout you?" He pressed the end of the gun against a woman's neck, lifting her chin up so she looked at him. "You know it?"

"No..." The woman whispered, her voice cracking.  
"What was that?" The Joker bent down, flicking his tongue across his scars.  
The woman repeated her reply, louder.  
"Didn't think so..." He giggled and pulled the trigger.  
The gunshot echoed around the high-ceilinged bank, followed by the frightened gasps and muffled screams of people. 

The Joker kept walking, holding the shotgun behind his shoulders with both hands.  
"Does nobody know the code to the vault in here?!" He roared. 

"I do." A voice said. 

The Joker spun around, looking for the source of the voice.  
"Up here, clown." The voice said coolly.  
His eyes shot up to the giant stained glass window at the front of the bank. On the huge windowsill stood a figure in black.  
A grappling hook was fired and the figure dropped down onto the marble floor.  
The Joker stood and watched the person walk forward.  
Once they came to a stop in front of him, they pulled off their hat (an eye mask still remaining) and shook out a mane of long wavy hair, the colour of dark chocolate. He raised his eyebrows and looked the woman up and down obviously. 

"My, my. Aren't you pretty?"

"That isn't all I am." She said and grabbed the shotgun in his hands and hit him in the face with it.

He reeled back in surprise, laughing and wiping a drop of blood from his nose.  
"Alright! You got fight in ya too! I like that a lot..."

He gave a short whistle, and the three men came running at the woman. 

Quick as a flash, a knife was in her gloved hand. Within seconds, one of the men had his throat slit, one was bleeding out from his stomach, and the other was lying on the ground, the woman's high heeled leather boot resting on his chest. She flicked her hair back and stared up at him. He looked both impressed and furious.  
Police sirens wailed close by. 

"I suggest you get out of here before the cops get through my barricade." The woman said, one eyebrow raised nonchalantly. 

"What are you gonna do with all that money? Buy yourself a nice new dress, huh?"

"I promised it to some people. And the rest I'll either burn or give away."

The Joker strode over to her and stood very close. "This... isn't... over." He said in a low voice.  
"I'm glad it's not." She looked him up and down, raising an eyebrow. 

More sirens wailed outside; Casey looked over her shoulder to check the door. When she looked back the Joker had disappeared.

"Alright, punk? Who are you?" Casey muttered as she typed in the Joker's name into her laptop. Well, it wasn't hers. She'd stolen it from the bank, along with the cash and the only one of the Joker's henchmen she'd left alive.  
Casey was sitting in an old abandoned hotel on the outskirts of Gotham. It was where she stayed most of the time.

She scrolled through news articles about the Joker. Casey clicked on a video of him walking into a different bank, gun in hand, watching it over and over. She wondered what his face looked like under that makeup; would he be handsome? She shoved that thought away as fast as she could. 

Her phone buzzed with a call. She answered in a fake business-like voice, "This is Casey Williams. How may I be of assistance?"  
"Casey, get your ass down to the Shut Down nightclub Friday night and put out the light. If you don't, he's coming for you." A gruff voice at the other end.  
"Got it." She sniggered, throwing the phone across the room.

Friday night came; Casey got dressed up in her favourite colour, red. She was relieved she didn't have to wear her mask this time. She jumped on her motorbike and drove to the club.

Bass beats of music pounded her eardrums from the minute she reached the door. There was a long queue of people. She grinned as she looked up the line of faces, each one more drunk than the last. In an hour or two, they'd all be dead.

Casey walked past them all, to the front of the queue. The bouncer looked at her, recognised her and let her in, ignoring the drunken complaints of the rest of the people.

She walked through the people to reach the bar. She'd been sitting there for ten minutes when a man sat on the high stool beside her.  
He ordered a drink quietly then sat with it, turned around the face the rest of the club, as Casey was.

"So nice to see you again. You look gorgeous tonight." He said quietly.  
She looked over and immediately recognised the purple coat.  
"Dammit! What are you doing here?"  
"I was about to ask you the same thing."  
She scowled, and he grinned in response.

Casey downed her drink of Scotch and stormed off, leaving him staring at her back.  
She walked up to the VIP section and looked up at the tall man with sunglasses standing guard at the velvet ropes. 

"Hey, Vinnie. Listen, Tony's expecting me so I should really-"  
"No problem, doll." He said, pulling back the curtain for her.  
"Thanks." She smiled and winked quickly.

The VIP section was dark and seedy looking, the walls and floor a dark purple colour. Cigarette smoke clouded the air, mixed with the smell of strong alcohol and sweat.  
Men sat in the corners of booths, a cigarette in one hand and a barely clothed woman in the other. 

The sounds of the women's incessant giggling made Casey's jaw tense. She tried to ignore it and walked to the back, where she knew Tony Vincenzo would be.  
This man had held old debts over her for too long. He punished her in the most demeaning ways he could, humiliating her in front of men she would've otherwise hoped to have worked with, but those men would never take her seriously if the only thing they saw her as was a piece of ass.

"Hi, Tony."  
"Ah, Casey. Great to see you, doll. Come on, sit down!"  
She sat on the leather beside him and he instantly pulled her onto his lap.  
"Now, now Tony, aren't we being professional tonight?" Casey said, a fixed smile on her face as she repressed the urge to strangle him.  
"No way, Case. I want you..." He stroked her neck slowly.  
Many years ago, Casey would've melted at hearing him say that. When she'd first arrived in Gotham with nothing except for a dwindling sanity, Tony had bought her a drink. That was how it had all started; the late nights, the booze, the endless humiliation...

She'd wanted to kill him for so long; she imagined the light leaving his eyes when he took his final breath, it sent shivers of excitement down her back.  
"Let's go to my suite." He said in a tone which indicated that this was not a friendly suggestion, but an order.  
"One second, sweetie. I just have to go powder my nose." She got up.  
"Alright. I'll be waiting with some champagne and the camera. The boys will enjoy watching your little show."  
Casey smiled, "Can't wait."

Her smile disappeared the second she left the VIP section. She looked straight across at the stool the Joker had been sitting on but he had gone.

She tried to push him out of her mind and made her way up to the roof, checking the wires as she went.

Casey pushed open the double doors to the roof and stepped out. The cold air hit her and the wind whipped her hair and dress up around her. She gasped and started laughing hysterically.

"Hello there, beautiful."  
A voice made her turn.  
The Joker stood there, remote control in hand.  
"What the fuck are you doing here? This is my job."  
"I simply wanted to assist." His tongue flicked out of his mouth again, faking innocence.  
"I don't need your assistance."  
"I help make it more fun, though." He grinned, juggling the remote carelessly between his hands.  
"Trust me, this is gonna be fun enough without you."  
"Why?" He said slowly, taking a step closer, tilting his head and pouting. "You got somethin' against some people in this club, hmm?"

She nodded.

"Vincenzo, aahh. Smug little bastard... I understand perrfectly." He held the remote out to her.  
She reached for it and at the last second, he pulled it back.

"Wait wait wait!"  
She glared and advanced on him.  
He backed off, hands up. "It'll be more fun if we do it my way!"

"I will throw you off this fucking roof if you don't give me that remote."

"Will you, though?" He raised an eyebrow, lowering his hands a little.  
"Of course, I will. I'm a woman of my word." She jumped up and grabbed the hand which held the remote but the Joker pulled out a pair of handcuffs and handcuffed their hands together. He tossed the remote into his other hand and held it out of her reach. 

Casey stood speechless for a couple of seconds, looking from the handcuffs to him, and the remote.  
"My way."

She was still incapable of speech.  
The Joker rolled his eyes. "Come on, let's get out of here!"  
He dragged her down the stairs and eventually out of the building, avoiding the VIPs.

They stumbled out onto the street.  
"You ready?" He held the remote between them.  
Casey found her voice at last, "Always."  
"You can do the honours."  
"Both."  
She placed her thumb on the green button and his placed his on top of hers. Together they pushed. It started slowly, a faint humming sound beginning from inside the building; then it all came at once. The sounds of explosions rent the still air.

The building started to crumble, its supports giving way. People's screams split through the dull explosions and cracks, but with so many people all trying to leave at once, and with all but one exit sealed, they were stuck.

Both Casey and the Joker laughed as the building collapsed in front of them, rubble and shards of glass flying everywhere. Suddenly there was another sharp explosion and Joker cards rained down upon them, flying everywhere through the air. Casey cheered and jumped up and down.

He turned to her suddenly, amidst the carnage and their amusement.  
"What's your name?" He asked.  
"What?!" She yelled back.

He repeated the question, closer to her ear.  
"Casey!" She replied.  
"Beautiful!" He exclaimed.  
"What's yours? Your real name!?"

Police sirens grew louder and a helicopter flew over their heads, the searchlight focusing down on them. Walkie talkie sounds buzzed down to them.  
He hesitated for a second.  
"...Call me Jack."


	2. Sweet as sugar

Chapter 2- Sweet as Sugar

 

"We should go," Casey said quietly as police cars and fire trucks sped up the street towards them.  
"Now that's an idea."  
He tossed the remote over his shoulder and followed her down an alleyway.

"There they are!" Voices of policemen shouted.

"Shit!" Casey hissed as the policemen came towards them with guns. 

"Run?"  
"Run!"

They sprinted away down twisting and turning alleys as fast as they could. They both knew the city well so it wasn't too much of a struggle. Suddenly Casey pulled him into a narrow space between two apartment blocks.   
"Why did ya-"  
She put her hand over Jack's mouth to shut him up and held a finger to her lips.

The police ran past, completely missing them. She slowly let her hands return to her sides.  
They both breathed heavily for a couple of seconds.   
"So you wanna get a drink?" Casey asked casually. 

"So... tell me about yourself, sugar."

Casey raised an eyebrow, "Sugar?"

"Yeah, 'cause y'know you're such a sweet, caring person," Jack said with a wide grin.  
She chuckled, "Yeah, you got that right." 

She swirled her Scotch around the bottom of her glass, "There's not much to tell really... I grew up just outside of Gotham in some shitty little apartment with my mom. Things started to go... to hell, so I caught a train into the city, found myself in a bar one night, when Tony Vincenzo turns up and buys me a drink. Next thing I know I'm doing weekly Friday night shows at the Sweet Kitten."  
"That was you?!" He almost choked on his drink.   
"You were a fan?" She looked sideways at him, smirking.   
He loosened the collar of his shirt uncomfortably, clearing his throat and laughing nervously, "Me? I, uh... No, of course not..."

Casey knocked back the rest of her drink and slammed the glass down on the table, the handcuffs dangling from her wrist.  
Both of them sat opposite each other, with their feet up, in a corner leather booth of a dark, dusty bar on the outskirts of Gotham. It was near to the abandoned hotel Casey called home. 

"Soon enough, though, Tony realised I knew my way around a weapon when some guys jumped us in the street. They all got their heads blown off and I got a promotion. Recently, I've started being a little more independent in my work."  
"That is alllways more fun," He smirked.

"I have a question," She said as she splashed out another drink for herself.

"Shoot," He leant forward, tapping his own glass, "Not literally," He added quickly, remembering the gun in her bag. 

Casey poured the Scotch into his glass, the melting ice cubes sliding over each other, "What do you look like without that makeup on?"

"I've got..." Jack picked up his glass, while moving his hands upwards expressively from the sides of his mouth. She wondered how he managed not to spill his drink, "these scars."  
"I know that. They're kind of obvious, no offence."  
He shrugged his shoulders a little awkwardly, "Well... yeah."

Casey leaned forward and lowered her voice, "Take off the makeup, Jack."  
"Take off those clothes and maybe I will," He shot back, before taking a long drink.  
"You wanna get out of here?"  
He tried not to choke on his drink. Again.   
"Sure."

"Great." She picked up the now empty bottle and walked to the bar.

Jack sat back and ran his hands through his wild hair. He hadn't been expecting this.

His alcohol addled mind spun with longings and worries. Yeah, she was attractive but he didn't completely trust himself to not lose it. The last time hadn't ended well. He saw his hands covered with someone else's blood, screaming at the sky, trying to make the pain end but it just kept coming...   
No, this wasn't going to be like the last time. He shook himself and stood up.

Casey walked back over, zipping up her jacket over her dress.   
"We gotta go. Quickly."  
"Why's that?"  
"I had to threaten the bartender with my gun and he may have called the cops."  
"Let's split then, sugar," Jack said with a wink.

"Here we are!" Casey threw her jacket down onto a chair, "Welcome to my humble abode."  
"Humble?"

They had reached the second floor and a dining room stretched out for most of it. The high domed glass ceiling was a little cracked and dusty, but moonlight still shone through. Large windows, only two of which were smashed, showed views of the river glittering outside. Many tables and chairs were piled in a heap, in one corner of the room. One table was set out in the centre, with eight or so mismatched chairs. 

"The only useful thing I keep in here is..." Casey pulled out a bottle from a wooden crate, "Booze!"  
She shook up the bottle until the cork popped off, then took a swig and cheered. 

"What are we celebrating?"

"The chaos we created together was truly beautiful," She smiled.  
"I could not agree more," He grinned.

They both clinked imaginary champagne glasses and carried on taking long drinks from the bottles. 

Jack was woken by a dull thud. He stirred slowly, his head spinning. He quickly checked his hands.   
Clean.  
He sighed in relief.

The dull thud had been Casey falling out of bed onto the floor. She sat up slowly, rubbing her head.  
"Ouch..." she muttered. 

Jack blinked a couple of times until his vision focused, then looked around him. He was in a bedroom, a room in the hotel. There was blood on one of the walls, which caused him to panic for a second, but it looked old and dry. He noticed a purple jacket thrown on the floor and recognised it as his own. 

With a little trepidation, he looked down at his body, sprawled on the couch. 

His shirt was unbuttoned a little and his belt was loose but apart from that, and his pounding headache, he was fine. Casey stood up carefully and Jack realised she was in her underwear, and he couldn't help but stare.

She staggered forward a few paces, covering her eyes.   
"Bright... lights..." She muttered.   
"You want me to close the curtains?"  
Casey jumped, "Jesus! Oh... hey. I-I'll do it."  
She wandered over to the window, shielding her eyes and pulled the tattered curtains across. It didn't make much difference but she seemed relieved.

She walked back over to him and was about to speak when she clutched her head and groaned.   
"Ah, my head! That hurts.... fuck me!"  
Jack tried not to laugh.   
"Wait-" She looked at him, her expression both worried and flirtatious, "Did... you?"  
He coughed to cover his laughter, "No... no, I don't think I did."  
"Okay... right," Casey ran her hands through her hair distractedly, "I'm gonna go take a shower."

Jack nodded and she walked out of the room. He heard her bare feet padding along the floorboards until they stopped; a door creaked open, then another, and the sounds of dripping water came down the hall.

Somewhere in the hotel, a clock chimed. Counting the number of chimes, Jack realised it was noon.   
He cursed and jumped up. He hurriedly straightened his clothes and hair. He found a piece of paper and scribbled a note.

On his way out, he walked past the room where Casey was showering. He stopped and glanced through the crack in the door. Steam filled the room and Jack was struck with the urge to walk in. He caught a glimpse of movement and looked away quickly. He sighed and left in a hurry.

Casey came back to the bedroom a few minutes later, disappointed to find it empty.   
She found a crumpled piece of paper lying on her bed and picked it up. She read;  
"Sorry to run out but I have to meet a gang leader and you know how impatient they can get. I had a great time, we should meet up again and create more chaos...  
Keep safe sugar. J."

Casey smiled and pinned the note to her wall opposite her bed.

In the weeks and months that followed, that wall became filled with letters from Jack. Some were stained with makeup, blood or something else, but all were in his spiky handwriting, and all were signed; "Keep safe sugar. J."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> yeah it's a bit cheesy i know


	3. Pretty damn close

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Casey and Jack go out and attend the funeral of Tony Vincenzo, the former gang boss, but things take an unexpected (but not unwelcome) turn. Casey tries to deal with this by going on a bender, but what is she trying to hide?

About a week later, Casey turned on her tiny, half broken television and threw herself into a chair. After a day of planning a museum heist, she settled down with a cup of instant ramen and some beer.

The news was on and a report began on what was being described as a drug deal gone wrong. Blood was spattered on the walls of an apartment and the reporter, looking slightly nauseated, was standing in front of one of the walls. 

Casey noticed something on the wall behind him and when he stepped back, she read a message written on the wall in blood;  
"C. Dinner? Tonight 8. Your place.   
\- J."

She smiled in delight and checked her watch. 7:58. Damn the late news reporting! Couldn't they be more prompt? 

She swore and hurriedly downed the beer and ramen, and changed her clothes to a short lacey black dress with a belt and black boots, threw on some red lipstick and went downstairs.

Jack was standing in the lobby, having an animated conversation with one of Casey's henchmen. He stopped when she reached the top of the cracked wooden staircase and made her way down, and stared.

"Hi."   
"Good evening." He grinned.  
"Shall we?" She held out her arm.  
He took it. "We shall."  
"Keep an eye on the place, boys. Remember to lock all the doors." Casey called over her shoulder to the men as they walked out.  
They gave several grunts of acknowledgment.

"So, where are we headed?"  
"I heard through some of my contacts that Tony Vincenzo's funeral is tonight."  
"Good job I wore black."  
"I was thinking, perhaps, that we could, y'know, crash it?"  
"Do you mean that literally or...?"  
He cackled, "Oh, we do think alike, don't we?"

The funeral march continued along slowly. People's sobs echoed through the silent street. The only two who weren't moved were two figures standing at the back, both in sunglasses, one in a dark suit and a large scarf, the other in a short dress, with bright red lips. 

"You look very handsome," Casey whispered in Jack's ear as they walked slowly along with the others.  
"You don't look too bad yourself, sugar."

"Y'know, I remembered some more about the other night."  
"Oh yeah?"   
"Mm-hmm," She looked at him over her sunglasses, "We didn't go all the way but we sure as hell came pretty close."  
His eyes widened behind his oversized pair of glasses.   
"How... how interesting."

The procession reached the cemetery and the coffin was lifted from the hearse and carried through the gates. Helicopters with searchlights buzzed overhead.  
"Aww, they're looking for us," Casey said, sounding flattered.

They hung at the back of the group, arm in arm and hung behind after everyone had left, trying to look as sad as possible.   
"I brought wiiine," Jack said in a sing-song voice, pulling a small bottle out of his inside pocket and throwing off his sunglasses.  
"Oh thank god, I didn't think I could stand there looking miserable anymore."

Casey panicked when a searchlight swooped over them and hid behind the mausoleum. She acted innocent while Jack placed dynamite around it. 

"Jack... there's a warden coming," She hissed suddenly through gritted teeth.  
"Oh, dear. That's not good."  
"What do we do?!"  
"Um.... uh......"  
"I've got an idea. Come here." She grabbed his hand and pulled him up, "Kiss me."

"What?!"  
"Just do it. He'll get uncomfortable and leave."  
"There is no way I am-"  
The cop shone a torch in their direction. Jack panicked and pressed his lips gently to hers. 

"Come on, that's not gonna convince anyone," Casey whispered. 

Jack growled softly and pushed her against the wall. His hands pinned hers above her head against the cold stone wall. 

It could've been minutes or hours later, Jack stepped back, breathless.  
They stood in silence for some time.  
"Can we blow stuff up now?" Casey asked hesitantly.  
"That's a very good idea," He sounded relieved.

They walked to the cemetery gates and pushed the button. The explosions lit up the sky and revenge felt good but it wasn't as fun as last time.  
"Listen... I uh, I gotta go. Gotta be up early tomorrow morning for a bank thing so..." She said awkwardly.

"Right. Alright. Want me to walk you back?" Jack offered hopefully. 

"It's okay. I'll see you around, or something."  
"Okay."  
"Good night then."  
"Night."

Casey walked down the street and kept slowly walking until she eventually reached her bed. She collapsed onto it and lay face down but she wasn't tired. Her mind raced with thoughts of Jack.

"Shit... God dammit!" He sat on a bench in the cemetery, his head in his hands, "You came on too strong, you've scared her off... But she was the one who flirted at the bar, not me. And she asked me to kiss her... she encouraged me for god's sake!"

He pulled out his notebook and poured his thoughts out onto the pages as he usually did; every single thought no matter how unspeakable, dangerous or disturbed it was. Drawings helped too and he found his pen forming the shape of someone who looked an awful lot like Casey.

 

"Dear Casey,  
Haven't seen you in a while... not since the cemetery. I'll be at the Red Box bar on Saturday night if you wanna meet.   
Keep safe, sugar.   
\- J."

"That'll have to do," Jack said to himself, clearing the many other crumpled pages off of his desk and putting the completed letter into an envelope.

Casey's phone rang. It was early on a Saturday morning and she was jumpy after not sleeping for three days.  
"Hello?"  
"Casey," A gruff voice said sternly.   
"Yep." She said, losing interest instantly at the voice and picking at her fingernails.

"Stop picking at your nails and listen up."  
She swallowed and sat up straighter, fixing her clothes. She'd also forgotten they'd put cameras in her room.

"He needs you to go the museum next Friday night during the Diamond Festival, take the best they got and pull the wool over the curator's eyes." The man said, speaking in code in case their conversation was being monitored. 

Just as she opened her mouth to reply there was a knock at her door.   
"Come in."  
The henchmen she'd stolen from the Joker walked in, holding an envelope.   
"This came for you, miss."  
"Thanks, Jerry." She winked.

Casey torn open the envelope and scanned the letter.  
"So you know what to do. And you know what'll happen if you don't?"  
"Yeah, yeah. Bye!" She said carelessly, tossing the phone down and running to her closet to pick out an outfit.

 

The Red Box was an unusual place. People like the Joker and Casey felt more at home there than at any other bar in Gotham so it was quite a popular joint.

Casey sat in the corner, a drink in her hand. Psychedelic music was playing and people were laughing and talking loudly but she heard little. She stared at the glass in her hand and the voices hissed in her ears. 

"Dead... She's dead... Your fault..."

"Mom..." Casey whispered, her voice choking up as tears spilled down her cheeks.  
The memory of a young man's voice echoed around her. "Keep still... Keep still! Now, nice and slow... No, no! Stop it, D- no! No hands... Eyes on me, alright? Never take your eyes off of me, and I'll never take my eyes off of you, agreed?"

"Casey! You alright?"   
It was Jack, sitting beside her.   
She jumped violently, flinching away from him. He touched her arm gently, the ringing in her ears faded slowly.  
"Come on, let's get out of here."

"Oh, jeez." Casey wiped the tears from her face, looking at them on her fingers in apparent surprise.  
"What's the matter, hmm? You high?"  
"No!" She said indignantly, "Not right now anyway."  
"Then what is it? I walk in and you're sitting there all spaced out, crying and muttering to yourself-"

"It's personal, okay?" She snapped.

He sighed impatiently and walked around her, hopping up and down a little but still bending down so they were face to face.

"C'mon sugar! You can tell little ol' me, surely?" He flicked his tongue along his scars.  
"I can't. It's too hard," She sniffed, drying her eyes.  
"Too hard?"   
"Right... Well, what isn't too hard to talk about?"   
"Drinking?"  
"That's what you wanna do?" His grin widened.  
"Definitely."

Hours passed. Casey knocked back another shot of tequila and winced. She sat at the bar with Jack when a man came over and leaned against the bar beside her. He was strangely dressed in a red suit with purple hair and shoes.

"Hey there, sweets," He said, looking her up and down.  
"Hi," Casey smiled, her vision slightly blurred.   
Jack looked up from his glass and looked between them awkwardly.  
"That's a lovely dress you've got on," He touched her shoulder with one pale hand.  
"Thanks."   
"Let me buy you a drink."  
Casey opened her mouth to respond but Jack nudged her subtly. She sighed and looked down at the empty glasses in front of her.  
"I don't think that's a good idea. Sorry... I-I gotta go."

She grabbed her bag and walked out. Jack got to her feet, nodded at the man and followed her outside.   
"Y'know a year ago I would've been all over that guy. I would've gotten even more drunk with him and to be honest I probably would've been stripping in the bathroom by now," Casey said quietly, running a hand through her hair.

He said nothing, just looked at her.

"D'you know why? It's a stupid reason. The most stupid... It's because of you, I think. Because... because we hang out together and it'd be awkward. I just did it so I wouldn't make it weird for you."  
Jack looked down at his shoes, and nodded, "Yeah, okay."

They both knew the real reason but just didn't say it. It was too soon, too fresh, too awkward. That night they ran around the city hand in hand causing chaos, screwing with the police and having as much fun as was possible at the time for them. It continued on for two weeks straight and Casey completely lost track of everything in the world except for her and Jack and their next adventure together.


	4. Neon Pink Pain

Chapter 4

 

The sunlight streamed in through a gap in the curtains. Casey stirred, and rolled over. A groan made her open her eyes.  
It was Jack, coming out of a deep sleep. She was lying on his chest. She blinked slowly, then noticed something red out of the corner of her eye. She flinched and sprang off of the bed.

"What the fuck?!" She stared at herself critically in the mirror, turning her head from side to side.  
"What is it, sugar?" Jack asked with a groan, sitting up slowly, one hand on his aching head. Then he looked up at her and saw.  
"...Oh."  
"It's red!"  
"It is red."  
"My hair is red!"  
"It is." He stood up, stretching.  
"I don't know how I feel about it... It's so bright..." She touched her hair tentatively.  
"Well, I think it looks gorgeous." Jack smiled charmingly.  
"That would come across as way less creepy if you were wearing a shirt." Casey glanced him up and down with a smirk.  
He pouted mockingly and walked to the balcony.

He leant against the metal railings, a cigarette in one hand.  
Casey slowly walked out and stood beside him, her back to the city.  
"What's the name of this hotel again?"  
"Something Italian, I think," He took a long drag on his cigarette.  
"I didn't know you smoked."  
"Only in times of stress," He said with a bitter chuckle.  
"What're you stressed about, Jack?" Casey asked in a jokingly soothing voice.  
"Just mob stuff, y'know. Those civilised bastards've got smart friends sometimes," He lied, looking down at the streets below.

She nodded, noticing the lie but deciding not to persist. She stretched, running her hands through her crimson hair. 

"What day is it?" She asked slowly.  
"Um... I have no idea."  
She chuckled, "Great."

The door was opened again and she walked back into the room. She searched around for something that might tell her the date until she eventually found her phone.  
Thursday.  
60 missed calls.  
Oh no.

"So you're telling me we've been fucking around this city for two weeks straight?"  
"You told me you wanted to drink... That's the last thing I can really remember," Jack said into a cup of coffee.  
"It's not quite my record but still it's pretty high up there."  
"Your record?"  
"6 months," Casey poured more sugar into her own cup.  
"Wow. That's impressive."  
"Yeah. I did almost die, though, but it was fun. I think."  
He smiled a little, pulling his scarf a little higher over his scars.  
"Are you gonna keep the hair?" He reached out and wound a strand around his finger.  
Casey leaned her head to the side instinctively, so her cheek brushed against his hand, "I don't know... maybe. Do you like it?"  
His hand froze against her cheek, "I do."

He looked at her and their eyes locked for a couple of seconds then she moved away. Jack hastily returned his hand to his coffee cup.

 

"Remind me how we ended up here?" Casey asked.  
They were standing at the bar of a nightclub in the Narrows. It was packed with sweaty drunk people jumping up and down to electronic music. 

"*Someone* wanted to dance their hangover away. Because loud repetitive music is gonna make us feel *miles* better," Jack said sarcastically,

"Okay, shut up. It's my fault."

"You wanna go?"  
"What am I even wearing?" She looked down at her outfit in disgust.

"You went shopping. By shopping I mean you raided a department store and a security guard lost his eye."  
She sniggered. "Oh yeah, that was a good time."  
"I think we should go."  
They eventually pushed their way through the crowds of people and out onto the street. Casey inspected her clothes under the orange glow of a streetlight. 

Jack looked at the neon pink crop top, tiny denim shorts and stiletto heels. "Your place?"

Jack and Casey stood side by side in the elevator on the way up to the second floor. The elevator was so ancient and slow it was taking quite a long time.  
She leaned against the metal wall, beer bottle in hand.   
"Do you remember," she cleared her throat, giggling, "Do you remember that one time when we kissed?"  
"I do remember that. That was so fun," Jack slurred.  
"You wanna do it again?" She took an unsteady step closer.  
He looked her up and down. "Definitely."

Casey put the beer bottle down and slowly placed her hands on his broad shoulders.

The door crashed open. Sobering up quickly, Casey pushed Jack's shirt off his shoulders while he pulled down the zip of her dress.   
"Beautiful," He whispered as it fell to the floor.  
Suddenly they were pulled apart. Jack watched as Casey sank to the ground, a tissue soaked in chloroform over her mouth and nose. He tried to grab her, to fight back, but soon everything went black for him as well.

 

"You're just too good to be true..."

Darkness. Everywhere.

"I can't take my eyes off of you..."

Pain. All she felt was pain.

"You'd be like heaven to touch..."

Someone's hot breath against her face.

"I wanna hold you so much..."

Was she dead? Was this real?

Casey's eyes opened slowly. The fluorescent lights blinded her for a few seconds and she blinked, looking around her. Her shoulder and chest felt damp but she didn't look down at them, she knew if she did the numbness would stop and be replaced by pain. She was distracted by a white-coated man backing away from her with a bloody knife in his hand.  
A choked gasp escaped her lips and she screwed her eyes shut tight. What had he done to her?! She felt drops falling from her face to her collar, dripping down her chest onto the chair she was tied to. It must be my own blood, she thought.

A door opened somewhere nearby and someone walked in. The door clanged shut loudly, it sounded heavy, as if made of metal or thick wood. Footsteps approached, slowly coming closer.   
"Is she awake now?" A voice asked.  
Her head felt so heavy. She couldn't recognise the voice over the others whispering in her mind. She only recognised the voice as that of a man. 

Was it the Joker?   
Her thoughts ran wild. 

Had he done this to her? Did he care about her at all? Was he really just as crazy as the Mob said? Maybe he'd gotten to know and befriended her just to torture and kill her. 

All of a sudden, a pair of lips were pressed against her own. She did the only thing she could think of and responded. A hand held the back of her head and kissed her for a few seconds. Then, pain. A sharp slap across her face. She winced. It hurt more than it should, why?  
Her eyes shot open and blinked furiously. It wasn't Jack. It wasn't the Joker.

It was far worse than that.

"You've been kissing him, haven't you? You're probably thinking about him right now... God, I can't believe you could just betray me like this, after all I've done for you? After what I helped you become?! And this is how you repay me?!" He raged.

"I'm sorry, Max."

"You're not. Not yet." He said threateningly.

Her mouth went dry.

Max leaned his hands on Casey's knees, his thin handsome face close to hers. "Listen to me."  
She dropped her eyes to the floor.   
"Listen to me!" He growled furiously, "That man doesn't care about you. He doesn't care about anything or anyone, okay? He's insane. The only person he looks out for is himself. He can't take care of you like I can. He doesn't know you like I do."

Max straightened up, and paced around her chair, still twitching with rage. Casey watched him, fear in her eyes.   
"It's like you want me to punish you. That musician was the reason we put the cameras in your room in the first place. Also because I wanted to see you but honey, you can't be trusted. Maybe we should send you back to the Mob..." Max said bitterly.   
"No! Please, no," She begged. "I'll be good. I'll do whatever you want me to."

"Well, you didn't did you? We make a simple phone call and give you very clear instructions and what do you do?!" He stormed around the small room. "You run off with that *freak* for days on end, doing God knows what! What if you had gotten hurt? Or gone off the rails again? What would you do without me to help you? Go back to the way you were when you got out of Arkham? Hmm?" He held her face roughly with one hand, "You wanna go back to fucking for money, do you?" He whispered. 

"No..." A single tear fell down her cheek.  
"So then you do what I tell you. No more disappearances or cheating. I'll always find out. Always. The only man for you is...?"  
"You," She said in something barely over a whisper.  
"That's right. You be a good girl," He kissed her and smiled, "My little destroyer, so beautiful."


End file.
